Certainly Not Tonight
by kaileytmarie
Summary: It's Sherman's first time to sleep over at someone else's house and Mr. Peabody is having a hard time coping. What happens when a phone call suggests that not all is well with his son? The instinct of both father and dog make for a very protective Peabody. Father/son oneshot.


Peabody's fur bristled on his neck and he could feel shoulders tensing. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "Everything is fine, Peabody," he assured himself. "Remain calm and remember to breathe."

Dark clouds were beginning to gather on the horizon, blocking the moon and stars as Peabody coasted into the driveway. He hopped off his scooter and walked casually-as casually as a nervous father can-to the front door.

_DING._

Peabody listened to the shuffling of small feet, heard the hushed voices of children as they ran from the door. Finally-after what felt like hours, but was only a few seconds-the door opened.

"You must be Mr. Peabody," said the teenage girl who answered. Her red hair was pulled into a messy topknot bun with thick, side-swept bangs falling across the outer corner of her right eye and brushing against her freckled cheeks. She smiled gently at him, a look of embarrassment in her eyes.

Peabody felt his ears perk forward. He took another slow breath to calm himself. "And you must be Jayden," he said, smiling back. "I gathered from your mother that there was a situation with my son, Sherman."

A pause.

"May I come in?"

"Oh, uh... yeah," said the red head, side stepping to let him pass.

Peabody could sense her apprehension.

He fought the whine building in his throat.

This was the first of many sleepover birthday parties Sherman was sure to be invited too. It was also Peabody's first night in seven and a half years to not have his son in the same dwelling as himself. He had been beyond anxious upon dropping the child off at the Henson's home, even though he had done extensive research and performed in-depth background checks on each and every resident, including the pets.

He had tried ever so diligently to relax when he got home, but a nagging feeling at the back of his mind simply would not allow it.

Finally, after hours of warring between logic, common sense, paternal concern and primal instinct, Peabody picked up the phone and dialed the Henson family's number.

His anxiety shot through the roof when he heard the tension in Mrs. Henson's voice. After some coaxing she admitted that there had been a slight situation, but she assured him that it had been taken care of.

And that is how Mr. Peabody found himself walking through the front door of the rather large, three level, brick home.

"I'll get my mom," Jayden mumbled. She refused to look him in the eye.

Peabody's nose twitched.

It would be rude to go trouncing through someone else's house without receiving a proper tour or permission first, he reminded himself. But Sherman's scent... He was so close.

"Mr. Peabody?"

Peabody turned to face the short, plump woman. Her light brown hair was cut short to frame her round face. She smiled warmly, her eyes gentle. Peabody could feel himself relaxing in the presence of such a calm, caring demeanor.

Mrs. Henson was wrapped in a plush, white house coat. Slight puffiness around her eyes told him that she had only just taken the day's makeup off.

Peabody suddenly felt a bit foolish for rushing over at such a late hour. Surely the situation wasn't as bad as he had made it out to be in his mind. But the fur on his back still bristled slightly, demanding he investigate the situation.

"I'm so sorry to barge in on such a late hour, Mrs. Henson, but I-"

The woman held up a hand to stop him, smile never leaving her face. "I remember my daughter's first sleepover, Mr. Peabody," she said with a laugh. "You make yourself comfortable in the den while I go get Sherman."

Peabody walked into said room and sat hesitantly upon the burgundy sofa. He noticed a chew toy peeking out from the doorway to what he assumed was the kitchen. He took a whiff.

Chihuahuas.

At least two. Male and female.

A part of him wanted to go find the dogs. He dismissed the thought, choosing to distract himself with thoughts of complex algorithms and quantum physics instead. Actually, he was so engrossed in his thinking that he almost ignored the distinct odor that met his nose moments later.

Almost.

"Mr. Peabody!" Sherman cried, lunging into his father's side and burying his face in white fur. "Are you okay?"

Peabody was taken aback by the child's sudden concern for his well being. "I... I'm fine, Sherman." He wedged an arm out of his son's tight grip and stroked his back. He could feel warm tears beginning to seep into his coat.

"Sherman?" Peabody asked, lifting the child's head to meet his gaze. "What's wrong?"

Sherman wiped his eyes, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone.

Mrs. Henson had stayed upstairs with the other children.

"Stephen was talking about his dogs and he said that they were eight and nine and that they were getting old and he said that one day they're going to die!" Sherman tried to catch his breath, tried to stop his tears.

He let the words spill without pause, wanting to be done with the whole situation as quickly as possible. "I said that they wouldn't die any time soon and he said that dogs don't live as long as people and I said that they could and then Jayden walked in and William asked how long dogs live and she said they only live ten or twelve years and I'm seven and a half and you can't leave me, Mr. Peabody! You can't!"

Sherman broke down, sobbing uncontrollably into his father's fur. He gasped and sputtered. He even started hyperventilating when he tried to plea with his father to not die in the next few years.

Peabody had to fight to keep the guttural growl from becoming more than instinctual desire. How could humans be so inconsiderate of the feelings of their own kind?

He stroked Sherman's head, shushing him, attempting to console his broken heart.

Teenagers were still children, he reminded himself. She wasn't thinking about what she was saying. His and Sherman's life was certainly not the norm. Such situations were to be expected.

"Easy, Sherman," Peabody whispered. "It's all right, my boy. I'm not leaving you. Not now, not in a few years, not ever."

Sherman peeked up, eyes swollen. "But Jayden said most dogs-"

"Do I look like 'most dogs' to you, Sherman?" Peabody smiled playfully, tickling the child in the side.

Sherman giggled. He hugged his father tighter. "No."

Peabody wrapped his arms around his boy, feeling his tail wag at the scent of the child's closeness. Sherman was calming down and so was Mr. Peabody.

"Sherman," he began, once more holding his son's head to assure constant eye contact. "I may be a dog, but I'm also your father. The day may come when you're not as accepting of my steadfast presence in your life, but I'll be there regardless."

Sherman stared, wide eyed.

"I won't ever leave you, Sherman. I promise."

Sherman beamed.

Peabody pulled his son close once more. "You're the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, Sherman."

New tears rolled down Sherman's cheeks. Tears of relief. Tears of joy. Mr. Peabody was a dog, but he was Sherman's dad most of all. Sherman didn't know how Mr. Peabody could live longer than all the other dogs, but he knew that his dad would. When Mr. Peabody made a promise, Mr. Peabody kept it.

"I have a deep regard for you, Mr. Peabody."

Peabody chuckled. "I love you as well, Sherman."

A few minutes later Peabody, Sherman and Mrs. Henson stood at the front door.

"It's completely up to you, Sherman," Peabody assured. "You can stay the night or you can come home with me."

Sherman chewed on his finger. "Um, I think I'll stay here, Mr. Peabody."

"Oh." Peabody tried to mask his disappointment. "Okay, then." He smiled, rubbed a paw through Sherman's hair. "I'll see you in the morning." To Mrs. Henson: "Thank you."

As Peabody walked back to his scooter, a little less apprehensive than when he had fist arrived, he heard his son call out his name.

"Mr. Peabody! Mr. Peabody!"

Peabody turned casually, hoping beyond hope that Sherman had changed his mind and wished to return home. "Yes, Sherman? What is it?"

"You're the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, too, Mr. Peabody."

Peabody's heart swelled at the sight of that toothy grin.

Sherman waved and ran inside.

Peabody mounted his scooter, drover around the block, hid his scooter in some bushes, and sneaked inside the Henson's garage. He laid on the back seat of a golf cart, mind turning to his conversation with Sherman.

He may be a father, but he was also a dog. And as a dog, he would never leave his boy. Never ever.

Certainly not tonight.


End file.
